Reflecting on the forks in my road...

I'm not a big "what-if"er, but sometimes I do consider the choices in my life -

Now, let me say that I have always known that God was at the center of my life; guarding me, leading me, preparing me for His purpose - but I also know that I am a free agent to make my own decisions and choose my own paths.  So here are the top 4 path choices that I feel made my life what it is today.


This first one was not so much a choice, but just a circumstance.  My brother was about 6 years old, and my mama tells me that things were not going good in the Young household.  So "not good" that she and my dad separated, and were in the process of divorcing.  Literally two weeks before the divorce became final, they reconcilled.  I, evidently, am the result of that "reunion".  I truly could not be here if they had not decided to give their marriage a go a second time.  Talk about sobering...

My Junior year in High School, I had a summer romance with a college guy that came to Poteet to work with his uncle and live with his grandparents.  Let's just say that JP was not like anyone I had EVER known; he was fun, adventurous, daring, kind, and he made me feel very special.  Now, he was very up-front about the fact that he'd left his girl in Georgia - but we spent lots and lots of time together.  My heart was careful, but also smitten.  In the back of my mind, I always knew that he would return to both college and his girl when the summer ended.  Another school year passed, and one day, I learned that JP (and his now fiancee!) were back for a visit.  As plainly as I could, I told mama that I did NOT want to see him.  Even though I had nothing to be ashamed of, I just felt it would be a little wierd....  well, mama being mama, one afternoon as I sat in the swing under the cotton wood, she drives up with him in the front seat.  I don't know that I was ever madder at her up to that point.  We had a little visit, and then mama took him home.  Two days later, as I drove home from school, we met on the road as he headed back to his grandparents.  After we passed, we each pulled over, and he got out of his car.  I looked in the mirror, and drove off.  I never saw him again.  It is one of those moments that is frozen in my mind - and while I'm sure the entire course of my life would not have changed, I've always wondered how that meeting would have gone had I gotten out of my car.

But the most obvious fork in the road came on Sunday, Oct. 28, 1973.  Two days before, I'd gotten glass in my eye and had had to have it removed.  When Sunday came, I really didn't feel like going to church looking like a pirate with a big giant patch covering my eye.  But I went.  That is the day I met Andy.  Now, Steve tells us both that we'd met a few times before on campus, but neither of us remember that being the case.  (I guess we made really good impressions on each other those previous times!) But on that Sunday, in that place, with a big old patch on my eye - I saw him.  And he saw me.  A fork in the road that we both would never regret....

Just a couple more.

In 1987, Andy had been working for Shell Oil, and decided that it was time to get into Probation and use his degree.  He set up some interviews in our area, and unknown to either sets of our parents, he began interviewing.  One day, while he was at work, my mom called him to tell him of a position in Probation here in Atascosa County.  Now, we'd been in Poteet over Christmas, and someone had asked us when we'd be moving down here.  Andy - being a Houstonian - assured them that there was no way he was going to come here; no jobs available, and he did not want to drive into San Antonio to work.  So, here in February, the fork made itself known in a big way.  We decided to check into it, and we've been here ever since.  The girls grew up here, the church has nurtured and challenged us, and it is our home.  God had provided for us in a huge way, and we'd been smart enough to see His hand in the process.

And then, I guess, is this one.  When Erin hit about age 4, I got
"baby  fever" really badly. Andy was convinced that our family was fine just as it was,  and so it never happened.  But over the years, at certain times, I've calculated how old that baby would be, and what our lives would be like had Andy relented.  Would our family be 3 girls, or 2 girls and a boy?  Would we have been blessed with another healthy child, or would there have been difficulties to deal with? 

Now, as we approach our "retirement years" (odd, to think about that already being here!), I see another fork in our road coming at us.  Will we stay and live our years out here in Pleasanton, in our home that we built from the ground up?  Will be join many of our friends, who move to be near their kids and grandkids?  Will we travel?  Will we be healthy?  Will we?  Part of the adventure is to see what happens.  All of the adventure is to make the most of those choices. 

But we will do it together - Lord willing.

What began as a dream....

     Today marks the second anniversary of my gastric bypass surgery. 

     What began as a passing dream of a better life almost didn't happen.  My teaching career ended in a swift decision, and my insurance changed - simple as that.  A friend informed me that my new insurance would cover the surgery, and that was that.  She referred me to a doctor she's heard of, and my new life began with the decision to see him.

      I recently came across the one old pair of pants that I kept from my Pre-surgery wardrobe.  I shook them out, and held them up in front of me at my bedroom mirror.  The image of the "new me" behind the "old me pants" shook me to the core.  I haven't shown them to anyone, and I told Andy that I am torn between wanting everyone to see the difference and no-one seeing it.  Part of me is too ashamed for the past to come crashing back in.  I do keep pictures around of the old Amy, but not many, and they are carefully selected.  Many have been shredded.

    The biggest thing about this is that it is so private.  The memories I have of things, the thoughts I thought, the feelings I stuffed down, the looks....  while I share everything pretty easily, I can't share these things - even with Andy.  And the times come when I am so mad at myself about wasting so many years that I just have to give myself Grace and acceptance, and not focus on what is behind, but what is ahead.

    What is ahead???  Life.  Fun.  Laughter. Playing. Walking.  Enjoying food in it's proper place.  Not burying feelings any more. Ever.


    I saw myself in HEB yesterday.  My old self.  She was about my age, riding in that awful motorized cart because walking the store was too much for her.  Struggling to get out of the seat to reach for items up high.  Not looking at people she met.  I smiled at her as I walked by, and buried the desire to "witness" to her about my surgery.  She didn't know that I'd been where she is....

     So - today is my second birthday.  I catch myself in the mirror or my shadow as I walk in the sun, or in a store window,  and I am happy.  I like how I look in my clothes, which I buy too often now.  I can fit anywhere I want to fit, and most of all, I "look" normal.  I am happy.

   

What I've learned about love

Today is Valentine's Day.  Like you didn't know that -

When I stumbled out of bed, after Andy'd left for breakfast with a friend, I found a card and Sugar-free candy waiting for me.  It HAS to be one of my all-time favorite cards; I've read it numerous times already, and it's not noon yet....

I am a wife that needs constant validation from my husband... and he is a man that, while he loves deeply, hasn't always been a doter.  He's committed, he's devoted, he's faithful, he's almost corny in his affection at times, and he's steadfast.  He's "it" to me, and has been since I first kissed him all those years ago.  But, while knowing that, in the past I haven't KNOWN that.  Confused?

The last couple of years have grown us both into new people; me - more confident and knowledgeable about myself, and him - more and more open in his undying, total love for me as his wife.  In this area alone, I kick myself for waiting so long for my surgery.  Through it, we have both seen a new level of what our marriage and love have grown to become to each other.

I've learned from Andrew and our life together that marriage is at it's best when there is something real sticking you together. While we've always had the bond of our marriage, the raising of our girls, and our devotion to our Lord, it's times of - for lack of a better word - stress that pulls out the stops.  It's times of transition and change, and it's times of facing certain realities that force us to re-evaluate where we are.  Watching my parents both die, and watching his age into their 80's, watching our girls face adversity and watching other marriages that we thought would survive fail has made our union more precious to us as the years have passed.  It almost takes on a "Survivor" mentality - that nothing dare come between us. 

In 1973 , when I met him, I thought I knew what it meant to love him.  Silly me - so, to those of you wondering what I've learned about love, here goes -

When you find it, take care of it.  Grow it, laugh in it, treat it with kid gloves, and most of all - DON'T let go of it.  You will reap the rewards immeasurably in the end.

My Wednesday night Oasis

   Decades ago, the leaders of the church set aside an hour during the week for Bible Study.  To get home from work, feed the family and then sit for an hour while someone teaches was often a chore, but these days I find that hour one of my favorites....

   Susie started the class I am in several years ago, and through the years we have gone from 3 of us a week to over 30.  We've done topical studies, video series -changed teachers a few times, and moved from one room to another. 

   But one thing stays the same; we are deeply bonded to each other - some of us are new to the faith, some (like me!) are "old-timers". Doesn't matter - we join together weekly in unashamed love for each other, seeking only encouragement, knowledge, and acceptance.

   My, that sounds idyllic! 

   Our current class is in one half of the Fellowship room. The other class is "mixed", and the coffee pot is on our side of the room, so men and women pass by us as they make their way to their class.  Sweet Sylvia goes by, with her encouraging words and hugs, some of the men make funny comments about "us women" and asking to join our class. Then, the door is closed, and off we go.

   The majority of our time is spent in prayer requests, sharing updates, and affirmations.  Last night, we spent some time giving specific praise to the Father for the answering of our prayers, and some time comforting a sweet sister whose heart was breaking.  There's no rush, and the time is well spent.

   I noticed last night that we had 4 mother/daughter combos. The "passing on" of the faith was so evident, and the chance for everyone to witness their bonds was awesome. 

   So, this is my mid-week oasis; a place of rejuvenation, love, and worship.  We laugh, we cry, we plan, we study, we encourage. We love getting to know each other on a different level than you would if you just pass by someone in the center aisle on Sunday morning. It makes life real, in every sense of the word.

  Is this what those men long ago intended? Did they have any idea how pivotal it would be to us in 2013 to have that "breather" during a hectic work/school week?  That those lonely due to being widowed or single would be supported by the fellowship of brothers and sisters?

  Whatever their plan was, I reap the benefits of their decision.  And I thank them, with all my heart!

  "Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another...." Heb. 10:25